Smiling, Clay got up, bussed his tray, and strode out of the main lodge, rolling up his shirtsleeves in case Austin was close by and watching.
20
Austin
Austin kept his tone even as he pointed to where the menu was on the computer screen for what felt like the hundredth time. Maddy was smart in her own way, but the new technology involved in using the document scanner was throwing her.
Both of them were on their last nerve and Austin longed to give up for the day, wash up for dinner, and find Clay so they could eat together. He’d gotten no texts from Clay all day, so he took out his phone.
Dinner in a bit?he texted, along withHave you eaten?
“Oh, I get it.” Maddy put her hands flat on the desk as if she meant to keep it from floating off. “It’s like a folder within a folder within a folder. Like you stuffed it in there to save space.”
“That’s right.” Austin whooshed out a breath. “You’ve got it. Always go to the menu if you get stuck. There’s a help file there to point you in the right direction, and if that doesn’t work, I’m nearby. But I think you’ve got it just fine.”
Beyond the open door, the blue sky over the ranch beckoned. It hadn’t rained in days and the weather was warming up.
Maybe he’d go painting again, seeing that so many wildflowers were in bloom, Indian paintbrush, red windflower, lemon sage wort, and on it went. He’d looked them up on his phone so he’d be sure to use the right term, find the right colors. He’d paint a span of grass dotted with flowers, and maybe he’d add a ghostly cowboy off to the side, one with blond hair and sturdy shoulders—
“Go along now,” said Maddy, waving him off. “You’re making me nervous staring into the air like that. Go have your dinner.”
Without waiting, Austin strode out of the office and up the dirt and gravel road to the main lodge. Passing beneath the shade of cottonwood and pine trees was a blessing of coolness, tinged with the scent of damp, of green things growing. Every day he got to walk around like this, either taking a break from his work or going to the main lodge, was like a gift. He never would have thought, in his old life, that something so simple would become so necessary.
As he approached the steps, moving to the side so that guests could get in line first, he saw Clay coming along the path from the staff quarters. He looked cool and freshly showered, but when they got closer to each other, he saw that Clay looked a little white around his jawline.
“Hey there,” said Austin. “You got my text okay then?”
Clay shook his head as they got in line, and while he shuffled forward when Austin did, his heart didn’t seem in it.
“Is everything all right?”
The question sounded reasonable enough, but other thoughts began to crowd that out, like did Clay regret saying he was okay with Austin’s inability to get it up? Did he want someone whole? Someone more gay? Or nobody at all? He could have kicked himself when Clay looked at him and moved closer, curving his fingers around Austin’s forearm before letting him go.
“There was a snake.” Clay looked white around his eyes now as he spoke. “A big prairie rattler right under my feet. I almost stepped on it. It almost got me.”
“But you’re okay?” Austin stopped himself from grabbing Clay and looking him over to make sure. Obviously, if he’d been bitten, he wouldn’t be standing with Austin now. “You’re okay.”
“Yes, but—” As Clay looked at him, his blue eyes enormous circles, his jaw working, sweat dappling his upper lip. “Cowboys aren’t supposed to be afraid of snakes, right? I am. Just about pissed myself today. Don’t tell anyone, okay?”
“I won’t,” said Austin, restraining himself yet again from taking Clay and holding him close, like he seemed to want, for he moved close, and closer still till his body was an echo of Austin’s. “I never will.”
He held back an earnest and heartfelt speech about how many people were afraid of snakes, and how a rattler would be extra scary, and Clay had no cause to be ashamed of that fact.
But words didn’t seem like they would help, just then, so Austin kept close to Clay in return as they got their trays and food and settled down at one of the long tables, since the smaller tables were all taken. He let Clay eat his baked spaghetti, let him drink his iced tea, eating his own food at the same pace, in sympathy.
“This is stupid, but—”
“But what?”
“I’m going to have nightmares, I just know it.” Clay scraped his blond hair back from his forehead, tugging at the roots of his hair. “I dealt with it today, you know? Did everything right. But it gave me the creeps to see that snake handler walking off with a bag full of rattler. He’s going to be back on Saturday, did you know? To find a nest, if there is one, or a cave of ‘em. Then he’s going to bag ‘em up and take them into the hills where they’ll make new homes. It’s the right thing to do for the ecosystem and all but it’s giving me the creeps just thinking about it.”
Brody came up to the table, with a tray of dirty plates, empty milk glass in hand.
“Hey, guys,” he said. “There’s a meteor shower that’s bright just after sunset. Want to come? Quint’s going to drive a few of us up to the ridge.”
From behind Brody came Quint, whom Austin had met only briefly. Austin had come across a few receipts signed by Quint, each one balanced to the penny as to what was on record. This was not a guy who messed around or, probably, let anyone else mess around.
“It’s the Bootid shower,” said Quint in a voice that could be heard even though it was quite low and the dining hall was rather noisy. “It can best be seen after dusk, so I thought we’d head on up a little before nine. Are you in?”
